


I've Got Friends in High Places

by chu_chu_yeah



Series: There's a Mafia in the Trees [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi Keiji is a Good Significant Other, Alternate universe - Mafia, Blood and Violence, Gang Violence, Hitman Bokuto Koutarou, Hitman Kuroo Tetsurou, Hitman Tsukishima Kei, Kozume Kenma is like Garcia from Criminal Minds, M/M, Murder, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:46:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28996944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chu_chu_yeah/pseuds/chu_chu_yeah
Summary: The work they do might be less flashy, however Tsukishima and Kuroo are valued members of the Seijoh Mafia. While under orders to collect information on a rival business however, they uncover a plot by a rival gang in the south to hit their leader, Hajime, right where it hurts.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Hinata Shouyou/Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Series: There's a Mafia in the Trees [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2127234
Kudos: 18





	1. Love Comes in All Shapes

“Will you stop tracking that shit everywhere?” The angry voice calling from the apartment was one that Kuroo had heard before, and as such, he ignored it. The path through the massive mansion had not been well planned, so he had dipped down a few hallways before finding the master bedroom, clumsily tracking his bloody footprints along the way. While their auxiliary targets had been dealt with, their primary goal was still unmet. “You will be the reason that you get caught, dumbass.”

“I’ll be fine!” Kuroo called from his position in the main bedroom, “Afterall, you’ll come to my funeral, won’t you?”

“Fuck off.” Kuroo sniggered at his partner’s tone as he dug through the expansive closet of the master suite. It had been a long time since they had dealt such collateral damage, however as long as they returned with the necessary items, no fallout would come to them. With a series of irritated footsteps, Tsukishima marched into the room with an irritated grunt. “Hurry it up! I’m hungry.”

“Hold on, I’ve almost got it,” Kuroo spoke distractedly as he worked at the safe in the main closet. He had left his toolkit at home, however luckily for him, their target had elected to get a standard pin-lock safe. After a few minutes, the safe swung open, and Kuroo hissed in approval as the copious amounts of jewelry and cash were on full display. He reached in and located a large manila envelope—exactly where Kenma had said it was—along with a questionably dirty laptop. He snagged one five thousand yen note with a cheeky grin. “The swells can buy our dinner tonight. Alright, let’s get outta here.”

“You are so sloppy,” Tsukishima scolded as they walked through the quiet mansion, “did you really need to kill the guard?”

“Of course, he did a horrible job protecting this place,” Kuroo spoke matter-of-factly, “besides, he wasn’t married.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes as they marched out of the front doors of the mansion; in the correct lighting, it would not seem like they had just killed its inhabitants to gain access to their safe, but rather two dapper, tall men leaving for a night of glamour. As they slipped back into their sleek black coupe, Tsukishima brought the car back onto the main road as Kuroo tapped into his phone to report their success.

“Did you tell Hajime-san?”

“It’s late, I’ll email him so it doesn’t wake him up,” Kuroo spoke as he worked at the laptop, “but Kenma and Matsukawa know.” That was enough for Tsukishima as they began the long drive back to Kanagawa.

For the past four years the two had worked together as a sort of muscle-for-hire for Tsukishima’s old acquaintance Hajime. While they appeared to be upstanding members of society—or at least Tsukishima did—they moonlighted as the Seijoh Mafia’s most covert agents for collection. Normally they arrived whenever the homeowners were gone, however many times, like tonight, was not so simple. Thankfully, Kuroo had a quick finger and Tsukishima a tough stomach.

“Kenma said we need to bring him the laptop,” Kuroo said as he tossed his phone onto the dash, “but Hajime needs this.” The manila folder, held flimsily with a single rubber band, would be delivered directly onto Hajime-san’s desk before dawn. Tsukishima nodded as he brought their car onto the main highway at his usual speed: the speed limit. “C’mon, I’m tired.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tsukishima spat, “I thought we were blood-covered criminals looking for a McDonalds, and not two hungry city boys out for a night of fun.” His amber eyes slid over to Kuroo with his usual irritated look, however the effect it had on its recipient was not what the sender had intended.

“You look so hot when you’re angry.”

“Shut the fuck up and find me a McDonalds. Now.” Kuroo whistled in glee as he brought the GPS in their car up to navigate them to the nearest drive-through. With a frustrated sigh, they began their usual routine of Tsukishima yelling, Kuroo cooing, and then them both talking about the new videos they had been shared online.

~

With a soft kiss, Akaashi placed his beloved fiancé’s coffee onto the coaster on his desk just as he pulled the old mug away. While he normally would be distracted enough to pepper his lover with kisses, Bokuto’s concentration was otherworldly as he poured over a 3D map on his monitor.  
  


“Would you like some dinner?”

“No, but wrap it for me for later,” Bokuto whispered as he moved the map at minute distances, “would it kill Kenma to clean this shit up? How am I supposed to route my fuses with this shit?” Bokuto suddenly rubbed at his face and leaned back in his chair. He peeked through his fingers and saw Akaashi standing beside him quietly, and while he wanted nothing more than to sweep him away into their bedroom, his brain was still fixated on the plans before him.

“Is this the plans for next month?” Akaashi leaned onto his desk to see the blueprints more closely.

“Nah, this is extra credit,” Bokuto joked as he zoomed his view out enough for the plans to be displayed across his three monitors, “this is a commercial building that supposedly has a residential unit within that has some items Hajime wants. So, Kenma wanted me to route a potential fuse line to bring it down after they get those items.” Bokuto’s brain was strained onto the screen until Akaashi leaned over and kissed at his cheek.

“Well, don’t work too hard. It’s already two o’clock,” he leaned back with his usual domestic smile, “I’m sure Kozume-san would be okay if he got the plans tomorrow.” With a quick turn he began towards their apartment’s bedroom, his lips perking up into a tight smile. Just as he expected, the sudden sounds of fiddling followed by rapid footsteps met him in their bedroom. As usual, Bokuto took care to turn on the heater before he stripped Akaashi bare, even if his skin was burning hot enough. Despite the burning need to close his eyes and sleep, Bokuto managed to properly address his lover’s duties. By the time Bokuto’s four o’clock alarm rang, Akaashi had just showered and returned to bed, meaning the workday had technically begun. However, as Bokuto settled into the sweet smells of Akaashi’s freshly washed hair, he reasoned that it would be okay to oversleep once in a while.


	2. Dinner Date

Tsukishima maneuvered their car into an empty space as Kuroo loped ahead to call for the elevator. The parking garage of the pristine new complex was ridiculously well-lit, so much so that as Kuroo held the door open, he could only see the bright reflections off of Tsukishima’s glasses as he approached. With an irritated huff, the blond man stepped in and pressed the appropriate button, sending the elevator crawling up to the highest floors.

“This place is so cutesy. Should we get an apartment?” Kuroo asked as they ascended beyond the concrete garage, revealing the rainy landscape of Isehara. Tsukishima shook his head as he began to peel off his jacket.

“No. I would hate to bring groceries up in an elevator.” Kuroo nodded in agreement as they came to their destination. The doors slid open revealing a pleasantly decorated residential hallway, sparsely littered with doors donning various family names. They walked down the long hallway until they came to the last door, which had an owl sticker stuck near the peephole and a small potted plant near the doormat. With an introductory knock, Kuroo let themselves into the cozy apartment. Immediately the smell of something delicious wafted over to them, and as Kuroo tucked around a corner to uncover its source, Bokuto stepped out from the hallway to wave hello.

“Yo!” he called with a toothy grin, “you’re early!”

“Kuroo didn’t eat lunch, so he wanted to come and raid your pantry,” Tsukishima bowed before turning into the large kitchen, “Akaashi-san, do you need any help?”

“No,” Akaashi smiled from his station at the stovetop, “thank you though. Oh, actually: can you get that bottle from up there?” He pointed to a white labeled bottle on the wine rack positioned atop the fridge; the apparatus was so large it nearly pressed into the ceiling. Kuroo, who had already managed to find something to snack on, huffed annoyingly as Tsukishima retrieved the bottle of wine.

“I could have done that!” Kuroo furrowed his brow like a child until Akaashi presented him with a wooden spoon, lathered in a rich sauce. Within a second he had plopped the spoon into his mouth, savoring the salty, sweet concoction. “Oh, _that’s_ good.” Satisfied, Akaashi began to dole out his creations onto long platters, which his visitors dutifully carried to the table. Bokuto presented Kuroo with a chilled beer before hurrying to the kitchen to retrieve the hotpot. Once the four all assembled at the table they quickly began piling their plates with the steaming, home-cooked meal before them.

“Thank you for dinner, Akaashi-san.” Tsukishima said between bites.

“Of course,” Akaashi smiled as Bokuto poured glasses of wine for himself, Tsukishima, and Akaashi, “one of our neighbors gave me this recipe for bulgogi that her family in Korea always makes.”

“If I ate like this every day, I’d become a marvel of a man,” Kuroo waxed poetically as he spooned himself broth from the hotpot, “Kei, you should—”

“No.” Tsukishima said bluntly, eliciting a chorus of laughs from their hosts. This scene was one they experienced often; every week the four would meet for dinner, usually at Bokuto and Akaashi’s upscale apartment, and have a long night of eating and boozing. It was a pleasant tradition that helped them de-stress and relax, especially when work got too intense.

“So, how did it go last night?” Bokuto asked as he gulped at his wine glass. With a soft huff, the domestic haze that had been crafted deflated immediately.

“We got everything we needed, though there were more people inside than we had initially expected,” Kuroo leaned back in his chair, “Kenma took the laptop for now, but Hajime hasn’t come back yet.”

“He said he’d be back tomorrow,” Akaashi sipped at his wine as the others raised their eyebrows at him, “he asked if I’d make dinner, I guess he has a meeting?” For a moment they remained quiet as they exchanged glances to the sound of chopsticks clanging against plates. Akaashi scanned the others curiously, though they averted their eyes from him. “I suppose this is something I shouldn’t know about?”

“No, it’s not that,” Bokuto sighed as he slumped into his chair, “but I have a sneaking suspicion that Hanamaki is gonna be there.” Akaashi raised an eyebrow seeking clarification, though it was Tsukishima who indulged him.

“Hanamaki has been working on a project in the south,” Tsukishima blotted at his mouth with a napkin while he spoke, “and if he’s coming for a meeting, then it must be time for that plan to be executed.”

“At least you’ll get to travel?” Akaashi winked at Bokuto, finally breaking the gloom with soft laughter. Before the mood has vanished, however, Kuroo shot Bokuto a darting glare, which the other man returned.

While they sat in their lovely apartment, indulging in a delicious homecooked dinner with friends, the reality of their lives remained the same. Once they stepped out of that apartment, however, they would revert to their usual occupations, contingent on whatever Hajime decided for them to do. After dinner was finished and the dishes washed, the four engaged in a drunken night of cards until just before two o’clock. Tsukishima donned his coat as he hoisted a sufficiently drunk Kuroo over to the door.

“I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow?” Akaashi asked from the threshold; Bokuto could be seen just behind him lounging on the sofa. Tsukishima nodded and lugged Kuroo into the hallway before Akaashi stepped after him, his fingers barely grazing his elbow. “Did you know that Hajime-san went to Sendai?” His voice came out as a chilled whisper.

“No,” Tsukishima said honestly, however his eyebrows rose at the question, “did he tell you that?”

“Yes,” Akaashi nodded as he lowered his voice to a whisper, “he stopped by just after Bokuto left this morning.”

“Hajime-san tells you more than even Tooru,” Tsukishima scoffed, “but I’m sure it was just business.” Akaashi sucked in his lips and nodded, finally waving goodbye as his friends hobbled their way to the elevator. Once the door closed behind him, Akaashi roused Bokuto to move to bed, and finally seated himself in their living room. The soft sound of his hands scribbling against his notepad brought him some needed clarity. Hajime was not one to procure his services for small fry guests, and as he designated his shopping list for the next day’s spread, the ludicrousness of his circumstances brought him little reprieve. When he had first fed his fiancé’s boss dinner in their old studio apartment, he had never imagined that he would eventually become his de facto caterer. He checked the clock—three o’clock already—and finally retired into the bedroom to join Bokuto in bed. His heavy breathing was just soothing enough to lull him to sleep; though he was unsure why, he was certain that the meeting would not be strictly business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah I actually thought I already posted this chapter... sorry! Working on the next chapters now, thanks for your patience! ^^


	3. Next Up On the Docket

As Tsukishima and Kuroo pulled into Hajime’s driveway, the fleet of cars parked beneath the wisteria trees were unsurprisingly familiar. Kuroo recognized Hajime’s, Matsukawa’s, and Bokuto’s cars all aligned on the long driveway, however as they stepped out and headed towards the looming house, Tsukishima groaned almost silently at the vintage sports car parked near the back.

“C’mon it might not be that bad.” Kuroo whispered as they climbed the shallow stone steps leading to the looming doors. Tsukishima shot him a glimmering scowl just before they stepped inside. The mansion was a sight they had seen many times before, and as they followed the path towards Hajime’s office, the slow echoes of voices confirmed their trepidation was not unfounded. The doors to the office were open, however as soon as they came to the threshold, a figure zipped past them to bring them slamming shut.

“We’re not late.” What had clearly been intended to be a question boomed out of Tsukishima like a demand. Hajime sat with his hands pressed to the shining surface of his desk, a neutral expression resting on his tired face. As they entered the room proper, Kuroo slid onto a wide seat to join Bokuto nearest the desk. Tsukishima opted to stand, allowing his eyes to sit higher than everyone else’s. Matsukawa was busy working at his laptop on the side of Hajime’s desk, however the meeting’s guest of honor stood a few paces away, his narrow eyes measuring the entire room.

“Good to see you again, Makki!” Kuroo smirked from his chair.

“You too,” Hanamaki nodded his head with a neutral smile, “now, shall we proceed?”

“Alright,” Hajime stifled a groan as he pulled himself out of his chair. He walked towards the electric fireplace and stood directly in its warmth. “So, I’m sure you all know—”

“Wait!” Bokuto suddenly shot up, his thick fingers pointing to Hajime’s phone, “We need to call Kenma!”

“Oh, shit.” Hajime nodded as he dodged back towards his desk—shooting Matsukawa a slightly irritated glance—and grabbed his phone before resuming his position aside the heater. A few moments passed before the medium sized TV mounted onto the wall powered on, and after three rings, the video call picked up to Kenma’s cartoon profile picture. “Hello, Kenma-san.”

“You’re early,” the voice on the other end seethed out, “give me a second.” The room’s occupants waited patiently, enjoying the sounds of Kenma clearing his desk before the screen finally illuminated to Kenma’s blank countenance. “Everyone here?” Hajime nodded, and Kenma brought his feet up to rest on his desk, showing off his fluffed socks. “And… is everyone aware of what is going on down in Shikoku?”

“Yes.” The room’s chorus resounded. Tsukishima caught Kenma peeking at his phone, however it seemed that everyone else was focused on Hajime.

“Well, the situation is evolving. Hanamaki, if you would.” The pale haired man nodded before aligning himself into the frame of Hajime’s camera.

“I was scoping out some new properties on the western coast in Shikoku when I encountered some new info regarding a new group down farther south. So, when I followed up on it, I found out that nearly the entire northern side of the island was under this new group’s control.”

“Control? What, are we facing supervillains?” Tsukishima’s tone was not lost on the room’s audience, however Hanamaki continued.

“I assumed it would be nothing major,” Hanamaki turned and looked to Kenma’s screen, “like some brats trying to strongarm their towns. But after Kenma looked into it, we found something more concerning.”

“There is a group from the Kansai region that seems to be planning to spread northwards. I don’t have any verified members yet, but I know that they’ve been operating out of Osaka for the last few months. Prior to that, they’d only been south of Hiroshima.” Kenma lazily tapped on his keyboard as he read through his notes. “Also, a shipment previously thought to have been delayed by fault of its sender has been tracked to this group’s location in Osaka, where it sat for only a few hours before moving again.”

“That’s not right,” Kuroo shook his head, his brows furrowed, “was it one of our guys?”

“Yes.” Kenma’s affirmation left the room rather surprised.

“Are you sure?” Hajime rubbed at his hairline, “and I want one hundred percent certainty.”

“Unfortunately,” Kenma tapped on his mouse, switching to show his secondary monitor as it played security footage, “I’ve confirmed that our courier stopped in Osaka at an unauthorized location for less than two hours before continuing on his preplanned route. I also found Line messages to some foreign contact coordinating the interception on his cell phone; Hajime has those.”

“Who is that?” Matsukawa asked as he strained his eyes at the TV.

“It’s one of Kunimi’s guys,” Kenma yawned, “and I’ve already made sure Kunimi had no knowledge of it.” Hajime remained unmoving as the information continued to pile up. Tsukishima looked to Kuroo with a perturbed glance; they would certainly be given an unfortunate assignment by the meeting’s end.

“So, have we brought this guy in?” Hanamaki queried. Before Kenma could answer, Hajime cleared his throat and stepped into the camera’s frame.

“Where is he now?”

“Kunimi is in Niigata on an errand,” Matsukawa answered this time, his fingers working at his laptop’s keyboard while his eyes scanned the room, “but his team should all still be in Nagoya.”

“Kuroo, Tsukishima,” Hajime’s voice cut across the room, “go to Nagoya and bring that bastard directly here.” Kuroo could barely get in a preparatory breath before he interjected again, “And I want him alive.”

“Yes sir.” Tsukishima nodded his head slightly. Kuroo snickered something to Bokuto, however the topic had to be something inane, as Hajime simply continued on.

“Kenma, please give them all of the info they need,” he dictated as he stepped back over to his desk, “and monitor the situation while they are gone.”

“Sure. Are we done?” Hajime nearly laughed aloud at Kenma’s tone; the sincerity of his words simply lacked any inclination towards piety.

“Yes, we’re done. Thank you.” Hajime waved towards the tv before the call immediately cut out. A quiet wave of chuckles let out as soon as the call ceased, though it was Hanamaki who broke the placid silence.

“Would it kill him to at least speak like an adult? He sounds like a bored teenager.”

“When you can do all of the tasks that he can,” Hajime sighed as he flopped back into his chair, “then you can be an asshole, too.” It took a great deal of restraint to keep Tsukishima from speaking out at that quip. “Matsukawa, what’re we looking like in the next week?”

“Major shipments are expected to be arriving on Thursday…” he tapped at his keyboard more aggressively than before, “but nothing else.” Hajime nodded gruffly before looking to Kuroo from across the room.

“This is going to be a… delicate manner,” Hajime steadied his gaze, “and your discretion is expected. I don’t want a _word_ of this getting out to anyone, Kunimi included. Is that understood?”

“Yessir!” Kuroo stretched out of his chair, “though I suppose we ought to get moving if we want to get to Nagoya before tomorrow morning.” Just then Tsukishima and Hajime’s phones dinged in unison; as he looked at the screen, Tsukishima confirmed that it was Kenma sending him an encrypted attachment. As if that sound had dictated the meeting’s end, Hajime sighed and waved them all off. Everyone except Matsukawa and Hanamaki filed out of his office, though Tsukishima did not fail to capture the steely frowns of the remaining members before the doors shut.

~

Per Kenma’s instruction, Tsukishima drove them in one of the large SUVs parked in the house’s massive hillside garage. They left for Nagoya no later than four o’clock, allowing them to reach their hotel—one that happened to be owned by the Hanamaki family—before nine. Once they had indulged in some takeout, they walked the neighborhood surrounding Seijoh’s warehouse yard. As one of their smaller operations, the collection of storehouses were arguably quaint in the bustling business ward. While they had to keep proper distance, they were able to identify several of Kunimi’s men milling about through the area.

“Wonder if anyone else knows about what happened,” Kuroo murmured as they crossed the street, arms locked to resemble a sightseeing couple—though Kuroo would have clung to him regardless—, “it’d be pretty amazing if one of these grunts were able to keep his mouth shut.”

“I doubt it,” Tsukishima kept his eyes steadied on the sidewalk before them, scanning for any potential onlookers, “and if they do, I doubt they’d be able to keep it from Kunimi-san.”

“This sucks,” Kuroo groaned, “I feel like we’re delivering a pink slip from our manager.”

“More like an arrest warrant.” Tsukishima let his fingers dig deeper into Kuroo’s hand as they finished their reconnaissance. The short walk back to their hotel was entertained by several brightly lit storefronts, however with every step, he could not shake the dread slowly building up in his gut. At least they wouldn’t have to get their hands dirty if the guy doesn’t comply. They returned to their hotel and quickly fell asleep, taking care that everything was perfectly in place before the did so; when the housekeepers came in the morning, they needed to believe that no one had been there.

Early the next morning, Tsukishima piloted their borrowed SUV to an alley not far from the main warehouse. It was not much past six o’clock, however the place already hummed with activity. Kuroo stayed several paces back as Tsukishima waltzed straight into the office, his unamused face quickly frightening the young receptionist. He leaned down over her desk, his golden eyes boring into her as her hands shook by her keyboard. He pulled a metal clip out from his leather jacket’s inner pocket, twisting it in his fingers to show off the plain looking business card held inside. Once her eyes focused on the paper, she slowly calmed herself, rising in her seat to lead Tsukishima further into the facility.

“Is it just you today, sir?” Her voice was shrill and unbearably youthful; he doubted that she was older than eighteen. He nodded silently, and as they stepped past the threshold into the main building, he held a large hand out in front of her; she only lingered for a moment before quickly ducking back to her desk. The warehouse was a sprawling two story complex that served as a major hub for packages arriving from Taiwan and Australia, and as such, several workers of varying nationalities milled about the conveyors, quickly sorting packages to the correct bins. As Tsukishima walked past them, most kept their eyes glued to their tasks—as they were instructed to do—however a few greener workers tried to sneak peeks at the shockingly tall man strolling through their factory. He did not address a single one, and as he came to the first floor’s office, he softly knocked on the door just as a friendly colleague would. The door opened quickly enough, however as soon as Tsukishima stepped in, he brought it slamming shut with a boom.

“Woah, what the hell dude!” A spritely man with pale hair, who sat at a long table with three others, raised his hands with a deep frown. Tsukishima said nothing as he walked up to him, again pulling the metal clip from his pocket. His affect quickly changed, and the man jumped to his feet with a gulp. “My bad,” he bowed his head, “normally Kunimi let’s us know when you guys are coming.”

“Yahaba?” Tsukishima queried. The man nodded his head while his subordinates looked pensively at Tsukishima, apparently frozen to their seats. “You’re the manager here when Kunimi-san is gone, correct?”

“Yeah,” Yahaba nodded, his face relaxing into a more suitable scowl, “Kunimi’s in Niigata, but you probably already knew that.”

“I’m here for one of the men working here,” Tsukishima did not miss how the other men at the table flinched, “Hajime-san would like to speak with him.”

“Is it Kindaichi?” Yahaba pushed his hands onto his hips with a pout, “because I know Kunimi ain’t gonna let him get transferred outta here—” Tsukishima closed the distance between he and Yahaba, silently relishing in how much he towered over the man. He leaned down to place his lips closer to Yahaba’s ear so that his whisper would not be overheard.

“Kyoutani.” He pulled back just enough to regain Yahaba’s line of sight, though he was surprised to see the man’s frown had been replaced by a wicked grin. He lifted his finger to lead them towards the room’s opposite door, shooting the others a dark look before they slipped out.

“I knew that guy was nothing but trouble,” Yahaba practically laughed as they walked down a narrow hallway, “Kunimi wanted to give him a chance, but I just knew that he was up to something. I’m sure you can’t tell me what he did, but my guess is he’s extorting us.”

“Not quite.” Tsukishima offered as they came to the hallway’s end, exiting out into the main building’s massive truckyard. Several rows of trucks and cargo vans were being unloaded and loaded by a fleet of workers. All of the staff wore official courier uniforms and drove licensed freight vehicles; if an outsider had stepped into this parking lot, they would assume they had accidentally trespassed into a legitimate shipping facility. They came to one of several smaller overhangs in the lot where servicemen worked on de-commissioned vehicles and other maintenance. Yahaba pointed to a pair of legs sprawling out from beneath a van before turning on his heel to disappear. The other workers had just noticed Tsukishima’s presence before he came to a stop next to the van. “Kyoutani Kentarou.”

“What?” A raspy voice spat from beneath the van. When an answer did not follow, he groaned and slid his creeper ungracefully from beneath the car. When his face finally came into view, Tsukishima simply held his card out before him, however the man didn’t seem to recognize it. “What the hell do you want?!”

“Wah, so loud,” Kuroo’s voice oozed from around the corner, and Kyoutani practically knocked his head onto the fender, “y’know, you might wanna be a bit quieter.”

“Who are you guys?” Kyoutani’s tone did not change as he rose to his feet. His stature was broad yet quite shorter than the two men who closed in on him. Kuroo finally stepped around from his spot by the car’s front grill—Tsukishima would scold him later for waiting so close to him—and placed a hand onto his shoulder.

“The boss wants to speak with you—”

“Kunimi ain’t here,” Kyoutani shrugged out from beneath him, his temper obviously flaring, “and I ain’t just going with two guys I don’t kn—” He choked out awkwardly before Kuroo caught him. The sharp jab Tsukishima had delivered to his neck had silenced him eerily quick.

“My hero!” Kuroo cooed as he lifted the man onto his back. Tsukishima did not even deign him with an eyeroll before turning on his heel to retreat. None of the other workers noticed them carrying an unconscious man through the yard, however Tsukishima knew better than to assume that they were oblivious. With every step farther he could feel the rising sense of dread that always followed these operations; the rising fear that, one day, two men would arrive and cart you off from the worksite, never to be seen again. If he were able to see behind them, he knew that they would be looking nervously to one another, questioning what Kyoutani had done to earn such a fate. Yahaba met them at the side gate to the alley—which Kuroo had entered in from once Tsukishima went inside—with a measured grin.

“If you guys need anything, let me know,” Yahaba looked to Tsukishima as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, “and if he’s still alive when you’re done with him, let him know he can’t come back here. Kunimi’s orders.” He stuck his hand out, and Tsukishima reluctantly took it; the sharp sensation of paper in his palm quickly caused him to curl his fingers shut. He slipped the paper into his jacket sleeve as quickly as he could before giving Yahaba one last nod.

“Thank you.” Tsukishima bowed just slightly more than before as they passed into the empty ally. Kuroo followed closely behind, his breathing slightly ragged from his heavy load. “Go to the gym.”

“He’s heavy okay!” Kuroo whined, “and you never have to do any heavy lifting!” The trunk of their SUV opened to reveal a strange setup. The headrests from the third row of seats were still in place, bolted to the car’s sides to obscure what was underneath. As Kuroo dropped Kyoutani’s limp body into the trunk, he adjusted him so that his body laid straight before sliding a flat pillow under his head. Tsukishima worked on the several buckles that secured him into place—all of which were physically locked by a key—and once they were sure that he would not get injured, they brought the trunk’s door down with a thud. They retook their positions in the car and began to maneuver to the street; they had just rounded the nearest corner before Tsukishima shook the note out from his pocket. He tossed it to Kuroo, who eagerly tore it open.

“Well?” The moments between the letter’s opening and their car reaching the freeway were agonizingly quiet. Finally, Kuroo folded it and placed it into his pant’s pocket.

“According to Yahaba,” Kuroo sighed as he kicked his shoes off, “Kunimi has received some odd information in Niigata. He said… that there is a chance that Hajime has been compromised.” Tsukishima’s stomach flipped as they rode onto the highway leading back home. Whatever he had thought would be scrawled onto that note, he certainly had not wanted it to be that. They hadn’t even left the city’s limits before he ordered Kuroo to quickly find them a drive-through for breakfast. Kuroo tapped against his phone while Tsukishima’s hands tightened on the wheel. He was merely a doer for Hajime, and he desperately wished to stay away from the intelligence side of his business. As his brain overworked on considering what Kunimi could have possibly learnt, he came to one conclusion: the next time he saw Yahaba, he was going to kick his ass.

**Author's Note:**

> While this is an associate work for my Mafia!AU, all you really need to know is that Iwaizumi Hajime is the mafia leader, Oikawa Tooru is Hajime's boyfriend, and Hinata Shouyou is Tooru's boyfriend. Enjoy!


End file.
